Rabbi Shaya's Thoughts

When Faith Takes Initiative

Thursday, June 19, 2025 - 12:08 PM

David Ben-Gurion is famously quoted as saying, “In Israel, in order to be a realist, you must believe in miracles.” Over the past months, we have indeed witnessed many miracles in Israel. Right now, we are in the midst of a tense war with Iran, a nation that openly declares its intent to annihilate Israel.

We must be realists, understanding the dangers and the need to protect ourselves. But if we believe in miracles, why put the lives of our soldiers at risk?

In this week’s Torah portion, Shlach, we read the story of the spies. The Jewish people wanted to send men to scout the land of Canaan (Israel), to go undercover so that when it came time to enter, they would know exactly how to proceed.

Why did Moses agree to this plan? Shouldn’t he have told them to simply trust in G-d?

Moses’s reasoned that for the Jewish people to truly take ownership of the Land of Canaan (Israel), they had to do their part to conquer it. Yes, they believed that G-d would perform any miracle necessary, but they also understood that they should not rely solely on miracles.

A Jew, Moses taught, must always do everything in their power to serve G-d in a natural way. This is not a sign of mistrust in G-d; on the contrary, it is an expression of deep faith. We believe that G-d will come through for us when needed, but we also know that G-d wants us to act, to put in our own effort.

That is also why Moses agreed to the spies, without a direct command from G-d. Had G-d instructed him to send them, or not to send them, the people would not have had the opportunity to act independently.

The lesson for us, especially during these trying times, is that we must do all we can through our own efforts, while always knowing that G-d will be there to perform miracles on our behalf.

May we continue to witness the success of the IDF, while also tuning in to the miracles that are happening every day.

Shabbat Shalom.

Being Me in a Crowd

Thursday, June 12, 2025 - 11:16 AM

Studies show that when a person is alone, they tend to think before they act. But when they are part of a crowd, they’re much more likely to go with the flow.

One might wonder, why is that?

Why would someone feel one way while alone and another way when with others?

Can someone truly be themselves while in a crowd?

Does a person need to lose their identity when becoming part of something greater?

We can appreciate our place in a crowd by looking at it from two seemingly opposite perspectives.

First, a crowd can function as a single unit. In this kind of group, people set aside their individual differences and act as one. The unity comes from a shared purpose and a sense of belonging to something greater than themselves. For example, the military, where everyone is dressed alike, moving in perfect sync, and following the same commands. The strength of the crowd comes from its cohesion and discipline.

But there’s another kind of crowd, one made up of individuals, each with their own identity, voice, and perspective. On the surface, it may seem less unified, perhaps even chaotic. But in reality, every person who joins contributes something unique, making the group stronger. Think of shul, where community members come together to voice different opinions and find shared solutions. The greater the turnout, the greater the impact. The power here lies in diversity and authentic contribution.

Both types of crowds can be powerful. One draws strength from sameness, the other from individuality. And Judaism teaches us that we’re meant to incorporate both of these ideas into our life.

Where do we learn this idea from? In this week’s Torah portion.

We read about the Korban Pesach, the Pascal offering, that was offered in the desert the first year after leaving Egypt. The day was Shabbat, a detail that holds a powerful message.

According to halacha, communal offerings may be brought on Shabbat, but private offerings may not. So how does the Korban Pesach work? On the one hand, it was a personal obligation, since each individual Jew was required to participate. On the other hand, it had to be offered as part of a group.

This unique dynamics of this offering, being a private yet communal offering, reflects both forms of unity: standing together as one while also maintaining personal responsibility. We learn this from the very moment that we celebrate our becoming a nation. On Passover.

This dual perspective is foundational to being Jewish. We are meant to be part of something larger than ourselves, yet not to lose our individual identity or sense of purpose. It’s not either-or. It’s both.

As Hillel said in Pirkei Avot:

“If I am not for myself, who will be for me? But if I am only for myself, what am I?”

Let’s bring our best to the world—as part of a community and as individuals.

Shabbat Shalom

From Event to Eternity

Thursday, June 5, 2025 - 11:04 AM

The anticipation of a monumental event can loom large in our lives. The excitement builds as we mark our calendars, counting down the days. But once the event passes, it’s easy to slip back into routine, as if nothing ever happened.

Does it have to be that way?

Perhaps not. It really depends on how deeply the event impacts us. The day after a couple gets married, for example, life doesn’t return to how it was; it becomes a new chapter entirely.

This Shabbat is “the Shabbat after.” That is, if we travel back in time. Let’s do that. More than 3,330 years ago, the Jewish people already observed Shabbat. Even Pharaoh recognized the need for a weekly day of rest and granted the Jews Saturdays off. But Shabbat was different then, because those Shabbatot came after the giving of the Torah.

At Mount Sinai, for the very first time, G-d gave us the ability to touch the Divine. G-d made Shabbat holy, and when we observe it, we become holy too. This depth of connection was never possible before.

To merge the physical and spiritual worlds is more than just a gift - it’s an empowerment. We were, and still are, empowered to change the world in meaningful, lasting ways.

So “the Shabbat after” wasn’t just another weekend. It represented a new reality: our ability to transform the world for good.

Let’s do that, one Shabbat at a time.

Shabbat Shalom